Life Without Baby

filling the silence in the motherhood discussion

Dealing With the Day-to-Day Challenges

By Lisa Manterfield

WorkBook3_3DThe third book in the new Life Without Baby ebook series is out today. In Dealing With the Day-to-Day Challenges I tackle all those issues we talk about here on the blog, including what to say when someone asks if you have kids, how to handle surprise pregnancy announcements, and how to get through social events and holidays.

I sent an early draft of the book to Kathleen, who offered me lots of great notes for improvement. In fact, one of her comments resulted in an entire new chapter. She said that while it’s important to cover the big issues that come up for us, one of the biggest day-to-day challenges, especially in the early stages, can be simply getting out of bed and bracing ourselves to face a world that seems to have shut us out.

I really appreciated her insight, because the truth is I’d forgotten what it was like to lie in bed in the morning and absolutely dread having to get up and face people. I’d forgotten what it was like to go to work each day being constantly on guard in case anyone said anything to flip the switch on my emotions again. I’d forgotten how often I seriously considered staying in bed and hoping it would all just go away.

I hope I’ve managed to tackle all those issues in this book, and I want to say a big “thank you” to Kathleen for her insight and for the amazing work she’s done editing the whole series.

Workbook 3: Dealing With the Day-to-Day Challenges is now out on Amazon, along with books 1 and 2 in the series. If you’ve read the books and found them helpful, I’d be very grateful if you’d consider adding a review on Amazon. It can help really help other people find the books—especially those women in the early stages who’ve yet to discover that they aren’t alone after all.

(Still) Learning About the Fertility Industry

By Lisa Manterfield

thinkingIf you’ve been hanging around the childless-not-by-choice community for any length of time, you’ve undoubtedly come across the wonderful Pamela Mahoney Tsigdinos. Author of the groundbreaking book Silent Sorority, Pamela has long been a steady and articulate voice for our community.

More recently, she’s turned her attention and her voice to the fertility industry. After the recent announcements from both Apple and Facebook that they would include egg-freezing coverage as part of their employee benefit packages, Pamela wrote articles for two renowned publications on the realities of that procedure. You can read what she has to say in Fortune and Wired.

As always, when I hear first-hand accounts and well-researched data on fertility treatments, I find the statistics shocking, sobering, and infuriating. I think about all the people who told me to “just do IVF”, often based on nothing more than the fact that such-and-such celebrity had done it and had been successful, but with no knowledge of what the procedure actually involves, what the odds of success might be, or whether it was even a viable option for my situation (which it wasn’t).

Even the medical professionals I met during my journey offered little in-depth information about what was ahead for me. My first experience was an almost flippant referral from a primary care physician, basically “Go see this guy. He’ll get you pregnant.” And my first visit to a fertility clinic involved a calendar of procedures and a chart of costs, with no discussion about the physical or psychological effects of what I was about to go through, or honest and realistic statistics of what the chances of success really were.

I’ll admit I was naïve going in, but I don’t consider myself to be an ignorant person. I did my research, but I still wasn’t prepared. I was given glossy brochures filled with terms I didn’t understand and procedures that seemed more invasive than what I felt I needed. And they all included pictures of adorable babies and joyous parents, but never hard information—the kind I needed to make a life-changing decision. I received a stellar sales pitch, but never felt guided by a trusted professional who had my welfare and best interests at heart. Even though I’m wiser now, I continue to be educated by people like Pamela.

If you’ve been through fertility treatments, how do you feel about the process? Has your view changed? Do you feel you went in prepared? What do you think should change for women facing this in the future?

Please leave your comments below and also consider stopping by Pamela’s blog to offer support for the work she’s doing.

Guest Post: Infertility Cuts Men Up Too

By Sheridan Voysey

Childlessness isn’t just a “female thing.” It cuts a man up too.

I know. I’ve felt it—felt each stinging cut.

For ten years my wife, Merryn, and I dreamed of starting a family. Our journey in pursuit of that dream included special diets, courses of fertility-boosting supplements, healing prayer, and chiropractic sessions (yes, chiropractic sessions—you’ll try anything). The journey included numerous rounds of costly IVF treatment, and a year of assessment as potential adoptive parents followed by an agonising two-year wait for our hoped-for adoptive child.

We pursued our dream with all the energy we had. But our dream never eventuated.

Exhausted from a decade in the wilderness of infertility, we brought our dream of a baby to an end on Christmas Day, 2010, after doctors had told us, just days before, that our final IVF round had been successful. They’d been wrong.

I feel the loss of that hoped-for child today. I feel it when I see a father tickling his giggling daughter, or as I watch a family celebrate the birthday of their teenage son, or as I see a proud father walk his radiant, veiled daughter down the aisle. I hear a little voice at these moments that says, “You’ll never have that,” followed by a jolting sense of injustice. “It’s just not fair,” the voice says, “when we tried so hard to have a child.”

Yes, infertility can cut a man up.

It cuts a man up in more ways than the loss of fatherhood, though. Having written a book about Merryn’s and my experience of starting again after infertility, and sharing our story through speaking, I regularly have men confidentially email or pull me aside at conferences to share feelings they rarely share. “I can’t talk about this to my friends,” one guy told me. “I have low sperm count. I can’t father a child. That’ll hardly impress my football buddies.” For many men this threatened masculinity is the most difficult aspect of infertility.

The lost opportunity of fatherhood. Threatened masculinity. Infertility can bring a third kind of pain to a man too—a pain born of empathy.

Try watching your wife’s bottom lip quiver as the doctor delivers the results of those first fertility tests. Watch the sadness grow in her eyes—a sadness that may last for years.

Watch your wife’s face contort in pain as the needle extracting the eggs for your first IVF round goes in. Watch as she later recovers from the trauma in shocked silence.

Watch your wife wait in hope for the results of the blood test—for the phone call with the good news that you pray for. Watch time and again as her hope falls to the floor.

Watch as she waits, and waits, and waits for the phone call from the adoption agency. Any day now it could come—the call to collect our child. But the call never comes.

Watch as she sits on the bed, a circle of tissues around her and her eyes rubbed red. Watch as she cries night after night. Feel her body shake as you hold her.

Watch as she enters an identity crisis, wondering if she’ll ever become the person—the mother—she longs to be.

And watch as she struggles with the faith that once sustained her. Watch as she wonders if the God she prays to cares. If he cared, surely he’d give her a family.

Watch all this—watch and try not to be cut up. When the one you love most suffers so much, how can your soul not be ripped to shreds?

Over three years have passed since my wife and I brought our quest for a child to an end. We’re in a different place now—we’ve started life again. And our story is helping others who need their own new beginning after a broken dream.

But please know this: childlessness isn’t just a “female thing.” Infertility cuts a man up too. In more ways than you may know.

 

Sheridan Voysey is a UK-based writer, speaker, and broadcaster. His latest book, Resurrection Year: Turning Broken Dreams into New Beginnings, chronicles his and his wife’s journey to start life afresh after ten years of infertility. Follow him on Twitter @sheridanvoysey, Facebook, and get his articles and podcasts at www.sheridanvoysey.com.

Our Stories: Justine

As told to Kathleen Guthrie Woods

Our StoriesSerious back problems (including surgeries and a year spent in a body cast) in her youth caused Justine to never be able to carry a pregnancy, so she didn’t think much about becoming a mother. Then the gestational surrogacy option became a media darling, and she started to think about new possibilities for creating a family. Justine and her husband endured two rounds of IVF, two transfers, and the loss of three potential babies. She’s 34 now. They have stopped all treatments, know that adoption is not an option, and are actively working to accept a childfree life together. Here’s some of her story.

LWB: What’s the hardest part about not having children?

Justine: Always fighting this feeling of not belonging. In every sense of the traditional woman my age, I will not belong because I am not a mother. However, I have learned that I will always belong, even when I do not feel I fit in, because that is my right and worthiness.

LWB: What’s the best advice you’ve received?

Justine: That I will always be a mother. I mother and parent my dogs. I mother and parent my clients as a therapist. I mother and parent all the children in my life. I just mother and parent in a different way, and in a lot of ways, I have a bigger audience than I would have if I’d had my own children. I also get to have different—not necessarily better, but just different—relationships with all of the children in my life because I am not their actual parent.

LWB: What have you learned about yourself?

Justine: I’m a lot stronger and braver than I thought I was, especially in owning my story with courage.

LWB: What’s one thing you want other people (moms, younger women, men, grandmothers, teachers, strangers) to know about your being childfree?

Justine: I think a lot of times we are considered to be sad and bitter women, or people feel major pity for us. I think after we do our work of recovering from struggles we can actually have better and happier lives. It took major work to get to this side. My sad and bitter moments are few and far between, but I have to stay on top of my recovery.

LWB: How do you answer “Do you have kids?”

Justine: I hit people with the truth and take the teaching moment. I usually say something to the effect that we tried to have our own children but can’t. I might say that we are learning to accept a childfree life, but we have a lot of children in our lives through our friends and family.

LWB: What is your hope for yourself this coming year?

Justine: Continue my recovery, especially getting stronger in it. I will continue to work on my blog, Ever Upward [see below]. I hope that it can reach more and more women and continue to open up the conversation to the other side of infertility.

 

On Ever Upward, Justine shares more of her story and addresses how we can “really own” our own stories. Learn more about Justine—and about her upcoming book—here.

Won’t you share your story with us? Go to the Our Stories page to get more information and the questionnaire.

 

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is mostly at peace with her childfree status.

It Got Me Thinking…About Womb Transplants

By Kathleen Guthrie Woods

Whiny_WednesdayNine womb-less women in Sweden received transplants from relatives in hopes that they will be able to give birth to their own children.

Premise for a sci-fi blockbuster movie? Nope. True story. You can read the article here.

I read the article with mixed feelings. I felt so sad for the recipients, having a sense of what they’d been through to get to this point. I thought about the ethics and wondered if, maybe, their lack of wombs isn’t part of Nature’s plan for population control (yes, I know that’s not a nice thought, but it’s honest). I wondered who would put themselves through this crazy experimental procedure, then I thought about all of the women I know who would drink, inject, or believe anything in hopes of having their miracle babies. I wondered if I had been in their shoes, if I had the means and opportunity, would I have signed up?

Would you?

Maybe this will be the answer to so many women’s desires to have children, and I hope for the best possible outcome. At the same time, I fear what kind of new baby-making industry (and related scams) might result from success.

I hope women—and their partners—read the fine print and weigh the possible win with the possible side effects and risks: blood clots, high blood pressure, diabetes, some types of cancer, transplant rejection. I also found the closing line of the article chilling: “…there are no guarantees (that the women will have babies)…what is certain is that they are making a contribution to science.”

Both my husband and I had to have surgery in the last six months. We are lucky to be healthy, but I have to tell you, recovery was a bitch. Elective surgery? No way. Possibly sacrifice my health to contribute to science? Um, no. But to maybe have a baby? Maybe.

What do you think?

 

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is mostly at peace with her childfree status.

 

Whiny Wednesday: Small Talk

During August, as I enjoy some travel time, I’m sharing some of my favorite and your favorite posts from the past year. I’ll look forward to seeing you again in September. ~Lisa  

Today’s post was originally run on  9/26/12

Whiny_WednesdayYesterday I accompanied my friend as she underwent a very unpleasant test for a big, scary health issue. My friend is a lot like me: she has no children and her family is many miles away. No one should go through something like this alone, so I volunteered to be, what she good-naturedly called, her “Biopsy Buddy.”

I’m sure the medical center staff has been highly trained in putting nervous patients at ease, and the nurse who prepped my friend for her procedure did a good job of making safe small-talk. Unfortunately, she latched onto the topic of Halloween, her big plans to go to Disneyland for the evening, and the problems of trying to find a Halloween costume to fit a 7-year-old with extra-long legs. If she was looking to get a conversation started to ease the tension, she picked the wrong, darn subject.

I don’t blame her for going with what she assumed to be a safe bet. I just wish the topic of children wasn’t always the go-to conversation starter.

It’s Whiny Wednesday. What do you wish was different today?

Whiny Wednesday

Whiny_WednesdayMy whine today is that I am tired of being tired. I have a day clear of appointments today, which means I can settle down and write, take care of a client project, work on the website, and read a friend’s book proposal, but all I want to do is lay on the couch and sleep.

It’s on days like today that I am thankful I don’t have children to care for. You’ve seen those photos of the big sow, flopped on her side with a dozen piglets clamoring all over her. I’m afraid that if I had kids, that would be me.

Anyway, it’s Whiny Wednesday. If you have the energy, feel free to have a good gripe here today. Just don’t wake me up.

It Got Me Thinking…About Hitting a Few Balls

Girl ThinkingBy Kathleen Guthrie Woods

I have a new passion in life: golf! A gift card to a local driving range was among last year’s Christmas presents, and I’ve gone out and hit a few buckets worth in recent weeks. Here are a few things I love about my new sport:

  • You don’t have to be particularly fit or strong.
  • You don’t have to be young or fast.
  • You don’t have to be totally coordinated.
  • You don’t see a lot of babies and kids hanging around.
  • PLUS—bonus for our single sisters—it’s mostly men out there!

Turns out I’m not the only childfree woman who has embraced golf. A quick search online reveals that some of the greatest golfers in history are cheros (heros who happen to be childfree)!

Babe Didrickson Zaharias—ESPN named her the 10th Greatest North American Athlete of the 20th Century. Read her full bio here, which includes a mention about how authorities wouldn’t allow her and her husband to adopt a baby. (The FAQs page on her organization’s Website states “They tried to adopt a baby, but the rules were too strict during that time period.”)

Kathy Whitworth—She won an astonishing 88 Ladies Professional Golf Association (LPGA) Tour tournaments during her career, which is more wins than anyone else in the LPGA or the PGA. View her stats here.

Mickey Wright—Wright was inducted into the World Golf Hall of Fame in 1964. During that period, she won at least one LPGA title in 14 straight seasons, a feat made more impressive by the fact that she retired at 34. Read a recent article about her here.

Even though I have no illusions about being competitive (apparently I’m what’s known on the course as a “duffer,” someone who hits a lot of bad shots), I’m enjoying trying something new—and I’m gaining a new appreciation for the achievements of our cheros. FORE!

Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is mostly at peace with her childfree status.

 

Asparagus in my Future

asparagus - pixabay.comLast month I did something I’ve been thinking about for years and which signified a real and definite change in my outlook on life. I planted an asparagus bed.

For those of you who aren’t horticulturally-inclined, planting an asparagus bed is kind of a big deal. Asparagus takes up a lot of space, with tall spreading plants. The plants don’t produce edible asparagus in the first year and have to be carefully tended and consistently watered to produce crisp, delicious spears the following year. With care, the plants will continue to produce year after year, but planting a bed means dedicating a large patch of garden and making a long-term commitment, which is why I haven’t done it before and why it’s so significant to me now.

So much in my life has been uncertain for so long that I’ve found it hard to make plans for a month in advance, let alone commit to a project that will take at least a year to come to fruition and will mean an ongoing commitment of many years. Ever since my future as a mother began to look uncertain, I haven’t been able to form a clear picture of how my life might look down the road.  Setting goals and making plans has felt pointless when I’ve no idea what my desired destination is anymore.

Although having a bed of homegrown asparagus isn’t exactly a fully-formed picture of my ideal life, and there is certainly a lot of fuzziness around the path my life will take now, my decision to commit to planting took forward planning and feels like the beginnings of commitment and permanence. It’s a step towards a positive future…and a very tasty future, at that.